Radioactive
by Savy160
Summary: And yet, they say that the dead cannot rise… Tell that to Jason Todd. WARNING: This story contains abuse, suggestive themes, self-harm, gore, violence, and language mainly from Jason. This story is the prequel to Breaking Point and Blood of the Skull.
1. Chapter 1: Waking Up

**Radioactive **

**And yet, they say that the dead cannot rise… Tell that to Jason Todd. **

**WARNING: This story contains abuse, suggestive themes, self-harm, gore, violence, and language (mainly from Jason). I do not own Batman or anything related (if I did Damian would not have died). **

**This story is the prequel to Breaking Point and Blood of the Skull. So if you like this story, check out the others.**

**I don't own the Batfam or Radioactive by Imagining Dragons… or practically anything. I'm a poor, broke college student, who should probably be studying.**

**Chapter 1: Waking Up**

Maggots and insects consume his rotting flesh. The smell of the corpse is revolting. The body has already started to decompose. Darkness surrounds the corpse. For three years this body has been decomposing. For three years this body has been lying in the satin lined coffin. The body has not received the justice it deserved for three years.

_**Whoa, oh, oh  
Whoa, oh, oh  
Whoa, oh, oh  
Whoa**_

Rain pelts the body's grave from above. The wind screams in anger as the thunder rolls. Lightning fills the graveyard with electric blue light. A stone guardian angel weeps above the headstone. A single tear rolls off of the statue's face as a single bolt of lightning strikes the marble slab that hides the body beneath it. The slab cracks open as the earth begins to rumble and shake.

_**I'm waking up to ash and dust  
I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust  
I'm breathing in the chemicals**_

"Aaaah! Bruuuce! H-help! B-batman!"

_**I'm breaking in, shaping up, then checking out on the prison bus  
This is it, the apocalypse  
Whoa**_

The soon to be walking dead's screams are swallowed by the storm. His fists pound against the lid of his prison as he panics. He's hyperventilating. He doesn't know what's going on. He hasn't realized that he was dead. It doesn't take him long to realize that he's in a coffin. He does the only thing he can think of. He calls for his father to save him as he pounds on the coffin and claws at the lid of his prison.

_**I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones  
Enough to make my systems blow  
Welcome to the new age, to the new age  
Welcome to the new age, to the new age  
Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive  
Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive**_

He calms himself down a little as he tries to ignore the fact that maggots are consuming his flesh, that he's buried alive, that Batman isn't coming. He's alone. Taking a deep breath, he slips the buckle off of his belt as he trembles with fear. He'll be alright. He's trained for any situation.

_**I raise my flags, don my clothes  
It's a revolution, I suppose  
We'll paint it red to fit right in  
Whoa**_

The metal tip of the belt's buckle is repeatedly driven into the lid of the wooden coffin. Finger nails are ripped from damaged skin as he claws his way out. Bloodied and bony fingers work diligently as he tries to preserve what little oxygen is left in the tomb.

_**I'm breaking in, shaping up, then checking out on the prison bus  
This is it, the apocalypse  
Whoa**_

The wood begins to crack. He takes a final breath and kicks the already cracked lid of the coffin. The damp soil begins to rain down on him. Yet, he keeps trying. He's not going to give up. Tiny splinters imbed themselves into his skin. But, he doesn't care. He only wants to escape the darkness, this Hell he's been buried in.

_**I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones  
Enough to make my systems blow  
Welcome to the new age, to the new age  
Welcome to the new age, to the new age  
Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive  
Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive**_

Finally, his right hand breaks through the top layer of the soil as he begins to haul himself out. He's crawling on all fours until his body can't take the strain anymore. Tears pour from his half sunken and hollow eyes. He's dragging himself by his hands, while screaming for his father to help him. A trail of blood, maggots, and torn flesh extend from the grave to the boy. His body has finally had enough. The walking dead is no longer crawling. He passes out from extreme exhaustion, with his father's name on his lips.

_**All systems go, the sun hasn't died  
Deep in my bones, straight from inside**_

The stone angel weeps as the body is carried away in order to serve a dark purpose. Hands work assiduously to repair the damaged coffin and marble grave. No one will even notice that the body is missing for another year.

_**I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones  
Enough to make my systems blow  
Welcome to the new age, to the new age  
Welcome to the new age, to the new age  
Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive  
Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive **_

And yet, they say that the dead cannot rise… Tell that to Jason Peter Todd.


	2. Chapter 2: Ash and Dust

**Chapter 2: Ash and Dust**

Small hands clear the debris away from the grave. Last night's storm was horrific and caused a lot of damage. The grave's only regular visitor pauses when a small crack is shown on the smooth marble. It seems that the hands that worked so hard to prepare the damaged grave the night before overlooked a small scuff. A finger traces the jagged scar. The finger is hastily pulled away as a tiny shard of marble imbeds itself into the finger. A single drop of crimson falls between the small crack and splatters against the dirt lying below.

The thirteen year old, raven haired, blue eyed, boy offers a small curse before wiping the blood on his jeans and placing flowers on the freshly cleaned grave. He sighs as he sits cross-legged on the grass and stares at the headstone. He absentmindedly pulls at the grass and rereads the name on the headstone for the thousandth time.

"Um… Hey Jason. It's me again… Dick said he's coming back to Gotham today… He says he just wanted to check up on things, but I know it's not true. He's coming to see you because tomorrow marks the anniversary of your… your death. It's the only time that he and Bruce come to see you. They'll probably fight though. They always do… But, you knew that… On a happier note; I made the Teen Titans," the boy states as a small smile crosses his lips.

"Dick says I'll be leading them one day… He says it runs in the family. You never led them, but I bet you could have…I know you could have. I watched you… Well, I mean I watched you in a non-creepy way. You were amazing! Heck, you were my hero… And now you're gone… Actually, it's been three years... You'll never know how much we all miss you. Bruce stares at the case with your costume in it all the time… Mine's different than yours… I just didn't want to disrespect your memory and I don't think Bruce could've handled it... None of us could. I wish you were here, Jason. I wish-" the boy added before abruptly breaking off.

A shiny coin has caught his eye. Fingers grasp the token as sunlight reflects off of the coin. The boy's brows wrinkle in confusion as he studies the foreign coin. It's not a coin from the United States… It's Arabic.

"Timmy, what are you doing here?"

The thirteen year old shoves the coin in his pocket before hastily turning to face the twenty-two year old. The elder of the pair is studying the younger. He takes note of the boy's cheeks, red from embarrassment.

"I just thought I'd see if the grave withstood the storm… When did you get back?"

"An hour ago… You just gonna stand there or are you gonna give me a hug?" the older man asks as he opens his arms.

The younger boy walks into his surrogate brother's embrace and allows himself to be coddled for approximately five seconds before pulling away.

"How long are you staying?"

"Just today, Timmy. Bruce has made it clear that this is his territory and that I belong somewhere else," The elder sharply responded.

"But, what about-" the boy begins before breaking off.

"Look, Tim. Bruce has his city. I have mine. We all grow up eventually."

"Oh."

The boy finds himself held against the elder. He sighs and secretly wonders if Jason was forced to endure their big brother's waves of affection. He lightly pushes against the other's chest. The elder releases his death grip and gives the boy a small smile.

"It's okay to come out here, Tim. I know you come out here a lot. I'm sure Jason's thankful to have such a caring little brother."

"How did you know I come out here a lot?"

"You know Bruce. He's a freak with security cameras… He was in the cave watching you."

"What! He watches me?"

"Don't take it personal. He just needs to know you're safe. We wouldn't know what to do if we lost you… But, it's weird though."

"What?"

"The camera died last night. I guess the storm killed it. But, it's the first time it's ever happened. Bruce replaced it this morning."

"Yeah. That is weird," the boy responded as his brother's arm was draped around his shoulders.

The two of them stand there for a while in silence before the boy finally asks, "Do you think he can see us?"

"Who? Jason?" The elder asks as the younger nods.

"Yeah. I'd like to think he's watching out for us."

If only the two brothers were aware of the fact that their brother was not watching out for them from above. If only they were six thousand miles closer to The League of Shadows. If they could only hear their brother's screams of waking up for the second time.

* * *

**For those of you that have read my work, I'm not going to be writing this story in POV's. It will be told in 3****rd**** person. Please let me know which you prefer for future preference. **

**And thanks for the reviews, follows, and favorites! **


	3. Chapter 3: Sweat My Rust

**Chapter 3: Sweat My Rust**

A father and a daughter walk down a corridor. They soon enter the hospital wing of the ancient building. The man, older than three centuries, looks upon the figure lying in the hospital bed in disgust.

Wires, tubes, bandages, and casts completely cover the figure beneath them. A steady beat of the heart monitor lets those present in the room know that the figure is still breathing. Barely.

"When you said you were bringing me the Detective's apprentice, I assumed it would be the alive one. And yet, you bring me a corpse."

"Father, the boy will prove to be a valuable asset to us."

The Demon's Head and his treasured daughter looked down upon the resurrected. One looked upon the boy with abhorrence. The other looked down upon the boy in curiosity.

"Has there been any change in his condition?" Ra's al Ghul asked as a doctor shook his head.

"No, my Lord. The boy has been in a coma for two years."

The Demon's Head folded his arms and glared down upon the body. Before growling, "Then he is of no use to me. Return him to his grave."

"Father, no! We can't! We need him! The storm happened… Just as it was predicted. The boundaries of time and-" Talia began before her father silenced her with one glance.

"I have no use for a breathing corpse, Talia."

"He could live again, Father."

"And why should I waste my valuable resources on him?"

"He will serve a greater purpose for us, Father."

"None shall use the-"

"Father, please. Do this for me," Talia pleads.

A father looks upon his most treasured possession and sighs. He knows he has lost the battle before it even begins.

"Very well… Wake him up."

Six thousand miles away, a mournful father stands at an empty grave.

"Jason… I'm so sorry."

The billionaire stares at the grave and mourns the loss of his child for a few more minutes before turning away from the grave. He knows the boy is dead. Yet, he can't help but wonder if something ominous isn't happening.

* * *

**Sorry it was short. Next chapter will be longer.**


	4. Chapter 4: Breathing In the Chemicals

**Chapter 4: Breathing In the Chemicals**

The League of Shadows surrounds the pit of an ancient cave.

The Lazarus Pit is named after the story of Lazarus from the Bible. Those offered to the pit will be given the breath of life just as Lazarus was.

The bubbling emerald liquid is dying to receive the naked corpse. The body is ceremoniously offered to the pit. It isn't long until the body is enveloped by the emerald water.

Burning.

"Ahhhhh!"

Hell's wrath has no fury like it.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!"

It's as if he's been sucked into the sun's gravitational pull.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!"

The churning, bubbling, thick emerald fluid is eating away at his flesh repairing the mutilations. He's choking on the rancid liquid as it fills his lungs. Eyes that had been shut for so long are now open. His cerulean blue eyes are beginning to change tint to jade green. The liquid gnaws at the roots of a strand of inky hair and bleaches it snow white. Rotting and torn flesh has been renewed. Some scars have been cleansed, but they will remain visible for the rest of the boy's days left on this earth. Broken bones have been healed.

He is no longer a corpse. He has rejoined the world of the living.

However, the elixir of life cannot repair damage to the brain… It can only enhance it.

Kill.

The only thought the boy has is to kill.

Seconds pass by as he claws his way through his salvation with renewed strength. He's laughing with madness as he bursts from the pit with the speed of a cheetah. Driven temporary insane by the effects of the pit, he has no control over his actions. With a rehabilitated body, the boy is unstoppable.

Two unfortunate assassins try to contain the boy. They are unsuccessful. There is no time to react as the boy rushes forward and decapitates the first guard with the man's own weapon. The second guard has his very eyes gauged out by the boy's fingers before his neck is snapped with a sickening crack.

It takes seven guards in all to restrain the newborn.

The Demon's Head and his daughter watch with interest as their guards attempt to restrain the boy.

"Talia, I want his training to begin immediately. I believe he will be of somewhat use to me."

"Of course, Father."

With grace, she crosses the cavern and approaches the boy being restrained on the floor. She looks down at the one gnashing his teeth, laughing, snarling, kicking, screaming, and fighting with every muscle in his body. Crimson blood that once belonged to others is the only thing covering the boy.

She glances over at the two lifeless corpses that were her father's guards before returning her attention to the boy. She smiles down at him and purrs, "Hello, Jason. I believe you possess a taste for blood… Good."

The boy isn't the only one with a taste for blood. For six thousand miles away, a sadistic maniac cackles as Gotham's Dark Knight drags him into Arkham on his own... without help from his son or his partner. The Bat's newest Robin is banned from even coming within a hundred mile radius of the lunatic. And Nightwing knows better... Or at least he should.

"Come on, Bats! Lighten up a little!"

"You killed twelve people tonight!"

"Only twelve? Hmmm…. I must be off my game tonight… Say, where was your new little birdy tonight?"

The Batman stiffens slightly before throwing the clown into a cell as Arkham guards keep watch over the scene.

"Tell me something… Is he has fun as the last birdy was?"

"You'll never find out," The shadow growls.

"Oh really? You can't keep him from me forever… I'm sure you're familiar with _The Masque of Red Death_."

The Dark Knight doesn't answer. He merely walks out in silent anger. He's anxious to get home to check on his new partner. He won't let this one down. He won't let this one die.

Left alone in solitary confinement, the harlequin chuckles to himself, "And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all."

If only they knew. If only they knew.

* * *

**Sorry it was so short. The next chapter will be longer. Thanks for all the awesome reviews, follows, and favorites!**

**And _The Masque of Red Death _is a short story by Edgar Allen Poe that I recently re-read in my composition class. I just thought it could be related. **


	5. Chapter 5: I'm Breaking In

**Chapter 5: I'm Breaking In**

He can feel fine silk pressed against his physique. The luxurious material feels nice against his bare body. He sighs as he buries his head deeper into the soft feather pillow. He inhales deeply as the smell of incense fills his nostrils.

Eyes pop open as he suddenly becomes aware of his situation. He tumbles out of the bed as he takes in his surroundings. A small bed clothed in the finest material is centered in the middle of the small room with nightstands on either side of the bed. The room has been carved out of stone. Candles and incents burn. An old tapestry hangs on one wall. The finest Oriental rug he's ever seen is on the floor of the stone covered ground. A locked door is present on another wall. The final wall holds a mirror.

The boy stumbles backwards and gasps as he catches sight of his reflection. For a minute he doesn't move as he stares at the man looking back at him. Time seems to stop as he cautiously approaches. His hand makes contact with the reflection. Yet, he has his doubts.

The boy knows his eyes are blue. The man's eyes hold a green tint. The boy knows he is of fifteen years of age. The man is much older. The boy admits he has scars littered over his body. The man's body is nearly covered in scars. The boy knows that his hair is naturally black. The man's hair is black with a streak of white. The boy knows that he isn't tall. The man is clearly six foot tall at the least.

"Hello Jason."

He steps away from the mirror as a new image takes his place.

"Talia Al Ghul," he breathes as she smiles at his attempt to shield his manhood.

"Don't be shy." She smirks.

"What's going on? What's wrong with the mirror?" he asks as he notices that his voice has gotten deeper.

"There is nothing wrong with the mirror."

"My eyes aren't green."

"They are now. The Pit does have certain side effects."

"What pit? What are you talking about?"

"My father has returned your life to you."

"I don't understand."

"Surely… you remember your death, don't you?"

He sinks to the floor as all the emotions hit him at once.

The Joker. Shelia. The warehouse. The crowbar. The bomb. Waking up in a coffin. Burning.

"Bruce-"

"He never came for you. He let you die," she interrupts before laying out some pictures of his death and his funeral.

"He didn't come?" he asks as he silently pleads with his eyes for her to tell him it's a lie.

"No. He allowed you to die. He failed you."

The boy shakes his head as tears threatened to fall. He can't imagine the fact that his surrogate father would ever leave him.

"What about the Joker?"

"He killed twelve people yesterday," she replies as his heart skips a beat.

The sadistic clown that murdered him is still alive? Was his life meaningless to the Bat? Why is his killer still breathing? Why did the Bat not come for him? Was he not good enough?

The emotions flooding through his mind are too much for one day. The floodgates open as he punches the wall. Talia intercepts before he can further damage himself. He's far too valuable to allow any more damage to happen to his body.

He's sobbing uncontrollably as she holds onto him on the stone covered floor. Her fingers are running through his hair and roaming over his unclad body.

Time marches on before he finally notices that the robe she was wearing is no longer on her body. He can't help but look at her body as he feels himself grow. She smiles at him as she dries his tears.

"How old am I?" he asks.

"Seventeen."

"Close enough." He mutters as he allows himself to be led to the bed by her.

"Tomorrow, we start your training. Today, I am going to break you in."


	6. Chapter 6: Shaping Up

**Chapter 6: Shaping Up**

Tim yawns and tries to keep his eyes from closing as his head drops to his chest. Stakeouts are tiring and boring. They've been standing on the same room for hours. No one could really blame him if he accidently fell asleep.

"He'd be eighteen today."

Tim's head hastily lifts as he immediately becomes wide awake when he hears his mentor mention his deceased son.

"Sir?"

"Jason. He would have been eighteen today," the Dark Knight repeats with a hidden trace of emotion.

"I'm sorry, Boss. I-"

"You may go now. I have the information I need. Besides, it's nearly morning and you have school."

Tim merely nods and stands up. He stretches and glances at his mentor before asking, "Aren't you coming?"

"No."

Tim just stands there a moment longer before remembering that he really needs to replace the flowers on Jason's grave. He says, "Okay… About Jason-"

"Go!" the gruff voice snaps.

Robin doesn't need to be told twice. He grapples away from the building, leaving a father to mourn alone.

"If I died, would he miss me like that?" Tim quietly asks to himself before shaking his head. "No. He wouldn't... No one would."

Six thousand miles away, green eyes flicker back and forth between two approaching assassins with swords drawn. The boy picks a target. He chooses the one in front. A single blade slides into his palm as the two approach. Not even a second has passed before the hidden knife became visible inside one of the assassin's necks. The man collapses with a sucking, bubbling sound coming from his throat. The familiar stink of death rose in the arena. The boy pulled a sword and darted towards the hooded figure. The sound of metal colliding could be heard as the two weapons clash. Far too focused on the sword in the boy's right hand, the man never even saw the hidden knife in the boy's left hand until it was slid between his ribs and into his heart. The man dropped as one more adversary entered the pit behind the boy with a sword drawn.

The boy's opponent never had a chance as the boy spun quickly and ripped into his face with the middle and forefingers of his right hand, raking along his would-be-attacker's nose and mouth. With the other hand, the boy struck the man's neck and dug his fingers in, grabbing the windpipe. He pushed against the exposed neck with his hand, temporarily closing the windpipe against itself, cutting off his oxygen. The assassin coughed and sputtered and instantly dropped his weapon before the hand pulled back, lacerating his throat and killing him.

The boy glared at where the leader of The League of Shadows sat, resting his chin on his entwined fingers, looking extremely bored. He commented something to his daughter before he rose and left without offering a single word to the boy.

"Jason, you did well. You are done for the day. Return to your chambers," she sighed before exiting the room.

Jason screamed in resentment as he flung his weapon down into the dirt beside a corpse. He mumbled profanities beneath his breath before exiting the arena. With a head held high and eyes set in a permanent scowl, he marched down the hallway towards his bedroom before he paused as a child walking down the same corridor with a head full of black hair held high and a scowl on his face passed him.

Jason blinked a few times as he glanced back at the retreating figure. He eventually moved on and mumbled to himself, "He looks just like Bru… No way. Not possible."

Eventually, he makes it to his room. That's when he catches sight of himself in the mirror. He is dressed as one of The League of Shadows. He's wearing their colors. He's covered in the blood of three people. He's just willing killed three people.

Jason sinks to the floor as he lays his palm against the mirror, touching the hand of his reflection. A single tear rolls off his cheek as his bottom lip quivers.

"Bruce," he sobs just as Talia enters.

"Jason?" she asks.

He rapidly blinks away tears before he turns on her with his eyes flashing dangerously. He screams, "I want to go home! You can't keep me here! I don't want this! I don't want any of this! I want… I want-"

She calmly asks, "What is it that you want?"

"I want my dad," he whispers as he furiously tries to blink back tears.

"There is nothing left there for you. Even if there were, he'd never welcome you back."

He screams, "That's not true!"

"You're a killer. You've broken his precious code."

Jason shakes his head as a few more tears fall. He sniffs, "I didn't want to. You said it was kill or be killed in the arena."

"You were trained by him to think of other alternatives by him. You ripped out the last assassin's throat when you could have just made him pass out from lack of oxygen."

He looks down at the floor in shame. A moment of silence passes before he looks back at her and says, "I still want to go home."

"You think he still loves you as his child? You're wrong. He replaced you."

He just stares at her in shock before shaking his head. "Y-you're lying!"

She merely leaves the room. Talia is gone for a few moments with a manila envelope in her hands. She takes a seat on the bed and pats the spot beside her. Jason sits beside her as she hands him the envelope.

With shaking hands, he pulls out pictures of Batman and a new Robin. There are pictures of the new kid with Dick Grayson, the chosen son that he could never measure up to. There are images of Robin with Nightwing and Batman.

He's seen enough. The pictures fall from his hands and scatter around the room. His hands are literally pulling at his hair as he shouts in anguish and anger. He's become blinded by tears as Talia tries to calm him down.

He's been replaced. His father replaced him. There is truly nothing left in this world for him… except revenge.

"I'll kill him. I'll kill all of them," he seethes into Talia's chest as she lovingly strokes his hair. She smiles to herself and adds, "I know you will… I have something for you."

He merely pushes himself away before flinging his fist into the wall. Temporary insanity has taken over as he continues to damage his fists against the stone coated wall. Talia merely pulls the lid of a box before removing a twisted dagger with the hilt of a dragon. She leaves the knife on the bed and leaves the boy to deal with his problems in his own way.

"Happy eighteenth birthday," she adds before closing the door behind her.

As she turns, she notices her father standing before her.

"Well?" he asks.

"It is time, Father. The boy is ready."

* * *

**Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and follows! Most of all, thank you for your patience. I've been extremely busy and I've had major writer's block with this story. The next chapter will be longer and hopefully written soon :)**


	7. Chapter 7: Last Update?

**PLEASE READ!**

**This might be my last update.**

**I'm an agricultural education major. It's required that I take a power equipment class. Long story short, I got hurt in a freak accident in wielding. I accidently got flash burned. Basically, I could either go temporary blind or permanently blind within the next 48 hours. Thoughts and prayers are greatly appreciated. **

**I'm sorry that I don't have a lot of time to write anymore. College and life get in the way. I'll try to update soon… if I still have that option. If I do go blind, I'm not sure I can ever write again. Thank you to those of you that have reviewed, followed, and favorited my stories. I'm sorry if I never get the opportunity to finish anything. **


	8. Chapter 8: I'm Okay!

**I'm Okay!**

I'm okay, guys! I deeply appreciate all of your touching reviews and messages! I legit almost cried (I still lack the ability to produce tears) after logging on today and seeing what everyone had said. Thank you so much for all of your concern. Yall will never know how much it means to me. Hopefully, I answered all of you back. And thank you to M, Saiyufan, Nightwingsass, Adventure time, Temporary-lah, Judy, Michi, Wrenny, Kagomeo4, OllielovesDinah, TimDrake, and all of my other guests who commented. (Sorry if I missed anyone)

For those of you who want to know whether or not I went blind, the answer is yes. Apparently, I was extremely lucky. I only briefly lost my vision. The doctor said that it was a freaking miracle. Nonetheless, briefly being unable to see is probably the scariest thing that has ever happened to me. It's hit at like two in the morning. Your eyes feel as if they're on fire and someone is trying to cut them out with a dull knife. Yet, you see nothing. You're practically helpless and you don't know what's happening. It's horrifying. I didn't even have my family with me. Both my parents and my younger sister all had the flu so they couldn't even be with me. I was just glad I had my roommate and a few of my school friends. I'd never wish this fate upon anyone. It's that bad. But, I'm lucky and so blessed that God allowed me to keep my vision.

Unfortunately, I am still experiencing side effects like having to wear sunglasses all day, the inability to produce tears, not being able to look at a computer screen, TV, or phone for more than ten minutes, not having direct eye contact with direct light, headaches, and blurry vision. But, I survived! Yay!

And yall are probably going to get a few chapters about some of the characters going blind. I'll try to update all of my stories asap!


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